Clinging to a Memory
by HazelHibiscus
Summary: Not all the memories one desperately clings to should be kept close. USUK, RusAme, FrUk
1. Chapter 1

Hiya everyone!

To some degree, this is a re-amped version of a story I already published to this site: Love Lost and Found. But don't hit the back button! While some of the ideas are similar, the stories will be fundamentally different. How do you ask? Well stay tuned to find out!

This is categorized as USUK because the eventual relationship is USUK, but there will be FrUk and RusAme before Alfred and Arthur end up together.

Warnings: cursing, making out and abusive relationships.

Disclaimers: 'Murika isn't mine :'( and neither is France, England, Russia or Canada

* * *

Whenever the twins were exceedingly bored –as they were right now-, Alfred and Matthew would toss or bounce whatever ball they could find back and forth between the two of them. Basketballs were safe to throw about as well as footballs and bouncy rubber balls, but much to Matthew's never ending worry, they normally found baseballs. In Alfred's strong hands, baseballs were decidedly unsafe. Weapons of mass destruction, really.

Ever since Alfred broke the television with a wayward throw, their mother forbade them from playing catch in the living room. And if they really _must_ play catch inside the house instead of in their large backyard, they need to stay in their room to limit the costly damage. While in their room, all they could break was each other. And if anyone was to be hurt, Matthew was certain it would be him.

"A-Al! Please stop throwing it so hard," Matthew yelped ducking away from the fast flying baseball. It created a brand-new fracture in the wall; their mother was going to kill them.

"But Mattie, that's how the hero throws!" Alfred said, laughing.

"You mean that's how the hero breaks a window…" Matthew mumbled, reaching down to pick up the baseball from the ground.

The sudden rap on the door startled the brothers; in a very short time, Alfred had already forgotten whom he was waiting for. "It's Arthur!" he yelled, flinging himself off his bed and pounding down the stairs.

Throwing open the door, the golden blond wrapped the smaller Brit in a hug bone-crushing hug. "Hey Artie!"

"And let go of me you twit! I can't breathe!" Arthur gasped. "Al, you don't even look remotely ready for swimming! All you've got is your swimming shorts on. Where is your sunscreen and your towel and your-"

"Don't worry, Mattie's grabbing our stuff! Right, Mattie?" he asked, turning to look up the stairs at his twin.

"I already told you, I'm not going since I've got to help around the school this summer since _you_ broke a ton of things last year, and it got blamed on me. You irritating, self-centered, neglectful, clumsy-"

"Yeah, yeah. I already told you I was sorry." Alfred waved his hand dismissively.

The house was silent for a moment before Matthew muttered, "Try not to get stung by a jellyfish," as he pushed the backpack of beach gear down the stairs.

"Solid. Thanks, bro!" Alfred called to his brother's retreating back. "Okay, let's go." He pushed the Brit out the door, and forgetting to lock it, he immediately hopped off the porch and picked up his bike from the ground. He quickly wheeled it down the sidewalk before getting on the bike and pedaling at a breakneck speed. Arthur struggled to keep up and cussed under his breath.

Traveling downhill through the American beach town he calls home, Alfred looked over his shoulder to make sure his British friend kept up. Slowing down a bit as Arthur picked up the paces; they coasted down to the beachfront. They bumped down the wooden boardwalk, jarring Arthur's teeth.

The friends sped down to the water, stopping only feet away from the receding waves. Hopping off his bicycle, Alfred dumped his backpack on the sand next to his bike. He tugged off his shirt and kicking off his shoes, as Arthur gracefully dismounted and removed his shirt, folding it carefully.

Hopping from foot to foot impatiently, Alfred looked yearningly towards the sparkling gray waters. "Arrttiiee!" he whined, as the Brit slathered sunscreen on his face and chest. "Are you ready?"

"Not yet, git. I still have to finish putting sunscreen on, and applying it to my back is the hardest."

"Then let me help," Alfred responded, bounding over to stand behind his friend. Snatching the bottle from Arthur's hand, he squirted out a big blob of sunscreen right onto the Brit's back, making him flinch away from the cold.

"Get off me, wanker!" Arthur snapped, pushing the golden blond away.

"Chill out, dude. Let me finish putting on the sunscreen," Alfred said, holding his hand out for the Brit. "Come on, please?"

Stepping back closer, Arthur allowed him to finish, and murmured a near silent thanks.

Turning the Brit around, Alfred squeezed a small glob onto his finger and smeared it down the bridge of Arthur's nose.

"Idiot, that's not enough; you know I burn," the Brit mumbled.

Humming, the golden blond rubbed some more across his cheeks, fingers lingering on the underside of Arthur's jaw. Blue eyes staring intensely into green, the Brit turned bright red and tried to pull his head away, but Alfred only tightened his grip. The golden blond gave him a small kiss on the cheek, close to the corner of Arthur's mouth.

Shaking his head, Alfred seemed to pull himself out of a trance, and grabbing the Brit's hand, he dashed towards the crashing waves and smiled widely at Arthur, whooping in joy.

* * *

"Alfred…" Arthur began, his surprisingly quiet tone almost unheard over the crashing waves. "I'm leaving."

"But you just got here an hour ago!" Alfred whined, looking at his British friend with the big blue eyes that the American knew could convince him to do anything. "And you said you were free the whole day!"

"That's not what I mean. I-"

"Then what do you mean?" Alfred cut across, a slightly worried pinch between his eyebrows.

"My family's going back home –back to England-"

"But that's not your home!" the American interrupted again. "You were born here; this is your home."

"Git! Let me finish a sentence!" Arthur snapped, but he knew better than to get truly angry with Alfred this time. His filter and ability to refrain from speaking everything on his mind tended to deteriorate when he was upset. "California may be my and my father's home, but that's not the case for my mother and my half-siblings. And father wishes to humor her desire for us to finish our educations in England."

"You're just going to leave?" Alfred asked, jumping up and pacing in front of his friend. The touch of anger in his voice shocked Arthur. "No putting up a fight, just meek acceptance?"

"Either that or be abandoned by my family," he retorted, standing to face Alfred on equal ground.

"But you're abandoning me! We're like brothers, aren't we?"

"We're not family, Alfred! Our relationship isn't remotely like that!" _If it were, I wouldn't want to kiss you so much._ Mentally slapping himself, Arthur drove the errant yet far too common thought from his mind to focus on the matter at hand.

Fists clenched; Alfred averted his eyes and turned his cheek, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.

"When do you leave?" he asked tensely.

"On Saturday," he responded smoothly.

"Tomorrow?!" Alfred stepped rapidly up to Arthur. He hugged the Bit around the neck, dropping his forehead to rest on his shoulder. "God, Artie. God."

Arthur remained motionless, arms at his sides, as Alfred clutched him tightly. Slowly, the Brit embraced the American around the waist. Not thinking clearly, Arthur pressed his lips to Alfred's temple, taking in the scent of bubblegum and frying oil that clung to his skin. It was an unpleasant smell but since it was a combination that belonged solely to Alfred, it invoked feelings of tenderness in Arthur.

Lifting his head, their noses were a hair's breath apart. Alfred's quiet pants swirled in the space between them, while Arthur's held the air in his lungs, not daring to breathe. But the Brit sighed, as Alfred leaned in, their lips touching chastely.

Parting for a moment, Arthur twisted his fingers through the other's golden locks, as their mouths locked together again. Their lips slammed against each other; all traces of chasteness gone. Alfred nipped at Arthur's bottom lip and slipped his tongue into Arthur's mouth, deepening the kiss. Their hands grabbed hungrily at each other's clothing, pulling them flush against each other. Arthur's mouth trailed down Alfred's neck bit and sucked at his skin, giving him a hickey; a temporary reminder that he was the Brit's.

Extracting a chain with a guitar pick dangling from it out of his pocket, Arthur dropped his hand into Alfred's back pocket to deposit the gift. The Brit kneaded the other's ass before he slid a hand up the back of his shirt, appreciating the muscles beneath his palm. It was his last chance to worship the flesh of his closest friend before he became nothing but a fond memory.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry this took so long to get out everyone. Even though I promised myself I'd plan all my stories out before posting them, I didn't. Now I know where this is going, so schoolwork allowing, chapters will be posted _much_ sooner.

* * *

Every Friday during their senior year, Matthew arrived home late; it was the only day when the brothers didn't have to come home immediately after school and sports. Not wanting to disturb anyone, he crept upstairs, stepping lightly on the floor over his parent's room and slinking past his brother Alfred's bedroom door. Sometimes, Matthew would take a second and look inside to study Alfred, hoping to see some sort of improvement. During the past two years, there had been no such luck. In public, Alfred seemed the same, but the smile that had once seemed open and truthful was now tinged with sadness. In the privacy of their home, Matthew usually found Alfred bent backward over the side of his bed, his golden hair tickling the floor. His phone often laid abandoned a few inches away. His pillow pressed tightly against his face as though trying to suffocate himself to death in a vain attempt to suppress his desolating in the hope of putting an end to his family's worrying.

Now imagine Matthew's shock when instead of seeing Alfred as the epitome of loss, he saw his brother's bright eyes glittering happily and a light blush painted on his cheeks, as his head rested in some guy's lap. The unknown teenager's face was inclined down towards Alfred, so his thick pale hair fell across his face, hiding his features from Matthew's view. The stranger carded his fingers through Alfred's hair, studying the golden flecks that shimmered in the lamplight. He bent down; his lips ghosted over the planes of Alfred's face and paused at the corner of his mouth. His tongue flicked out to trace his bottom lip, making Alfred chuckle lightly. Alfred brushed the other's ash blond hair off his face, allowing Matthew to see a flash of his violet eyes. He knew that color anywhere; it was Ivan Braginski.

There were not many people on the planet that provoke any sort of reaction or emotional response from Matthew, but Ivan was one of the unlucky few who sent Matthew's blood boiling with just his presence. The Russian bastard entirely ignored him, sat on him when there were empty chairs left and slammed him into the lockers whenever they passed by each other in the hallways. And the worst part was that Ivan often thought it was Alfred he hurt instead of Matthew; Ivan didn't even have the decency to recognize him as a separate entity from his twin! Matthew's animosity towards Ivan only grew with each passing day, simply because Ivan was unaware of Matthew. Even on the rare occasions the Russian did acknowledge Matthew's existence, Ivan remained ignorant of his hatred.

"Sunflower..." Ivan murmured. He squeezed Alfred through his jeans before Ivan slid his hand up under his shirt, stroking his sides lightly. "I want you in my mouth." A muscle in Matthew's jaw clenched.

"Ivan! Don't say shit like that!" Alfred said, swatting him lightly in the shoulder.

"Who is going to hear me?"

Matthew coughed lightly. The joints in Alfred and Ivan's necks audibly popped when they looked in the intruder's direction.

"Who the hell is this?" Ivan hissed, roughly digging his fingers into Alfred's sides. Alfred yelped, trying to twist out of the Russian's grip with no avail.

"Let me the fuck go!" He punched Ivan in the jaw, forcing him to release his grip, and rolled off his bed, landing facedown on the floor. "Goddam, big guy," Alfred muttered, pulling up his shirt and gingerly touching crescent-shaped indents and already purpling skin. "And that's my twin brother, jackass."

Ivan blinked slowly, still rubbing his jaw. "You have a brother?"

"Yeah, it's Mattie," Alfred replied, pushing himself into a seated position.

Ivan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and his mouth pressed into a thin line, as he struggled to remember.

"Matthew."

Violet eyes blinked again in puzzlement.

"Our soccer team's starting offender."

The Russian tilted his head to the side slightly.

"Never mind, dumbass. I give up." Alfred rolled his eyes. "Mattie," he said, grinning up at his brother. Alfred's smile slipped slightly when he saw Matthew's horrified expression. "You know Ivan."

"Yeah, Al. I do know Ivan," Matthew said softly, looking from Alfred to Ivan and back again. _And I know that Al -under no circumstances- should be dating that... monster. _"I'm going to bed." He turned, shutting his brother's door behind him and tiptoeing down the hallway.

Grabbing the back of Alfred's shirt, Ivan pulled him back onto the bed. Alfred tugged at his collar, spluttering, as he was choked. Ivan dropped Alfred into his lap, stroking the pink strangulation marks and peppering the back of the golden blond's neck. A quiet sigh filled the air, as Alfred lolled his head back onto Ivan's shoulder.

Sliding his hand under his shirt, Ivan lined his fingers up to the bruises and indents he created on Alfred's torso only minutes earlier. Smirking against the golden blond's skin, Ivan dug his fingers into the flesh. Opening his bright blue eyes wide, Alfred gasped and arched his back in pain. He held his breath for several long moments before Ivan relaxed his grip. Exhaling, Alfred collapsed against Ivan's chest, letting his eyes fall shut.

Alfred turned his head against Ivan's neck. "Fuckin' bastard," he muttered. His grin turned wicked, and the blue-eyed teen sunk his teeth into Ivan's neck, relishing in the hiss that escaped from between the ash blond's teeth. Wedging his fingers in the gap between Alfred's molars, Ivan forced him to open his jaw.

Smiling, the Russian rubbed his thumb over the golden blond's pink lips. Ivan fell back against Alfred's pillows and reached out to turn the lamp off, plunging the bedroom into darkness.

"You staying here tonight?" Alfred asked, lying by Ivan's side.

"Da," the ash blond replied, lifting his shoulders off the mattress to remove his shirt, and then lifting his hips so he could pull off his jeans. He took Alfred by the waist, pulling him down to him, so they on their sides, chest to chest. Grasping the hem of the golden blond's shirt, Ivan tugged it up over his head. The Russian unbuttoned Alfred's jeans, and Alfred assisting as necessary, he pulled them off and tossed them over the side of the bed. Running his hands down Alfred's back, as the golden blond nibbled his ear, Ivan pulled him close, hard angles on teenaged bodies fitting together. Shifting into a more comfortable position, Alfred slipped an arm around the Russian's waist and threw a leg over Ivan's hips, hooking his foot hooking around one of Ivan's legs. Grabbing a blanket, Ivan covered them before wrapping an arm around Alfred's shoulders. Together the two fell into a comfortable sleep.


End file.
